Whispers of a Nameless Fëa
by Belthronding
Summary: (Silm based) A Houseless Avari elf reluctant to leave Middle Earth performs an act of horror and sorcery.. Dark themes.


__

Author's Note: I started writing this a while back, but only got it finished recently. Thanks to Maeve Riannon for general encouragement, and support.

****

Whispers of a nameless fëa 

He gazed out at the immensity of Arda. It was a never ending mass of forests, rivers, plains and mountains; nature at its most beautiful, combined in such a way that from afar you would never have guessed it to be inhabited by any, save perhaps wild birds and beasts. But some did live there, such as his people, the Unwilling elves, those who did not take part in the Great Journey to Aman, that was but a distant name to him, symbol of his sundered kin. He was not born by the Waters of Awakening, but only later, once the Three Kindreds had been divided, and they were left alone, to face the wilderness and the dark shadows that was their home. He had grown to love it, like all his kin, from each bough of every tree in the dark forests to the silver springs and streams. 

As he contemplated this idyllic scene, a voice came to him, summoning him, in an imperative, authoritative tone, but rumours of this had before reached his ears, and he was unhappy with the thought of forsaking Middle-Earth, to be at the mercy of the Gods of the West. He wondered and wandered for many days thinking over the summons, when new whispers came to him, sweet and comforting, reassuring him that there was no need for him to go to Mandos (for such was the name of the God who would judge him), that he could remain free as a bird for as long as he so desired. Now he had often wanted to be a bird, to glide freely wherever he wished, so he yielded to the silent voices, submitting to the desires of the one who uttered them. The requests seemed fair to him, in his naïve mind, but also he desired to see his family again, up close, so though he knew now that it was against the will of the Gods to do this, he approached the Living, close yet not close enough to be perceptible to any elf.

The soft, syrupy whispers came again to him, urging him on to Aman, the Blessed Realm, where the high elves lived, in bliss and tranquillity, in total ignorance of their fellow kin, who resided in the twilight world of Arda. There would be plenty of time later to visit his family, the voice assured him of that, but going to the utmost West was a challenge few could bear. Eagerly then he set off, guided again by the honeyed words, across the sea, past the elves abiding by the shores, straight to the city of Tirion upon Túna to the very courts of King Finwë. These new names he would never have guessed, had not they been put into his mind by the one he was beginning to rely on as a source of knowledge. The sight awed him a little, but undeterred he flitted in and out of the chambers, delighting in this strange freedom. He decided to start easily enough, so arriving before the room he knew was Fëanáro's, he entered. The boy was sleeping, his breathing soft and rhythmical. He stood over him, and contemplated the young figure, beautiful as none he had yet laid eyes on. Fëanáro was dark of mood and face, but very intelligent, possessing a creativity and will to learn that he could never have matched. Now though, the temptation was overwhelming. He drew closer, until he was inches away from the boy's face, and then was on his face, trying to merge himself into him. He knew the other fëa had to be willing, but Fëanáro was naught more than a child, and a sleeping one at that. He forced and forced, deeper and deeper into the very heart of the boy, seeking to eject his fëa, willing it forcefully. But he was not spirit of fire for nothing, and he resisted. He could go no further, for the resistance was stubborn and pained him, the wresting for control of Fëanáro's body took a lot of strength out of his weaker fëa. He withdrew, sighing ungraciously, and left the house of Finwë the way he had came.

The spirit of fire slept on soundly, though his body was agitated, and trembled slightly. When he awoke the following morning, he had but dim and blurry recollections of the past night. He remembered a bad dream, where a ner had tried to wrest a jewel away from him.

***

Perhaps he had aimed too high, though he did not comprehend how such a young elf could resist him, unless all the children of the Eldalië were blessed with strange, unnatural powers, he thought darkly. He was hovering over a small stream, which trickled gently over jagged rocks, swirling in various hues of blues and greys, while lapping hungrily at the reeds. He had oft sat by the water, bathed in it, fished in it, even venerated it. How he wished he could simply dive in, feel the cool wetness against his skin; the tingle of warm flesh and cool water meeting, but that was impossible, so he wanted the next best thing. His spirit plunged into the darkness though he felt nothing, and easily, for their was no ulterior force guiding the stream, he took possession of it. He glided along, slowly at first, then picking up speed, bouncing over stones, delighting in changing its the course, breaking damns and flooding the starlit clearings. He roared powerfully, startling whatever fish swam in him, the movements so sudden and brutal that they were near to drowned. A bird, perched on a low hanging branch was the next victim; a wave engulfed the creature before he had even the time to lift a wing, or draw a last breath.

He soon tired though, and his mind went ever back to his people, and to the strange boy in Aman, so much stronger than he was. He abandoned the stream, leaving it to flow smoothly and quietly as it had always done before his intrusion, to seek out his people. Now, his folk lived in small clusters, deep in the eastern forests of the world, and he had no difficulty in finding a group of such elves. He floated over a single tree, casting a faint silver glow over the neighbouring wilderness, but his intention was to be noticed, and he cared little for subterfuge. But these elves seemed not to perceive his presence, or else they were too absorbed in other affairs to take heed. He thought of calling out to them, imploring their pity and aid, until his gaze chanced upon a small girl. She was sat upon a bough, gazing up adoringly at the night sky, perhaps counting the stars? He had done as much in his youth, and he was moved enough to stare at her for quite some time. 

He gazed so ardently in her direction that he was completely taken by surprise when the young girl turned her head and looked straight through him. Could she _see_? He decided to approach her; he did not spy other elves in the environing area, and maybe speak with her. He desired very much to have a conversation again with the Living, for though the sugared voices were his chosen source of information, he never saw the person who uttered them. She seemed to be waiting for him. Her small white limbs rocked idly back and forth in the night breeze, a symbol of her innocence.

'Is anyone out there?' She called softly, and her voice was calm, with no trace of anxiety.

He waited a moment, hoping this would deepen her curiosity.

'Aye, someone is indeed.'

'Where are you then, and who are you, fey spirit or kind soul?'

'Oh, I seek only goodness, do not worry. But I am a spirit.'

The girl's body relaxed slowly, allowing her to lean nonchalantly against the tree trunk.

'What do you seek that for? My parents say all spirits who linger in Middle Earth have unfinished business, or perhaps malicious intentions.'

'What, prey for the ones who simply wish to seek solace with their loved ones, or who desire still to linger by the shores of their home?' He made his voice soft and persuasive, soothing yet stern.

The girl thought long for an appropriate answer; her small pointy chin sticking upwards, and her head tilted sideways. Finally, she spoke.

'If Death comes to us at all, it should be accepted, for perhaps the Gods of the West have sent for us. One should go, and yield to the summons, rather than face their consequential anger. Who knows what unknown pleasures lie ahead, in the West? Our long separated kin reside there, should it not be a happy reunion?' 

He laughed harshly, and though the sound in itself was not perceptible to Living ears, the girl caught the mocking ring and stiffened. Realising his mistake, he caught the laughter, and it died before travelling any further. The words of the child astonished him, she spoke, not with wisdom for he knew it to be downright lies, but with an assurance he could scarce remember possessing at that age.

'Who put such idiocies into your head? Where are these all seeing all knowing Gods? If they be so great as you say, why have they not beheld themselves to us, the forgotten kin of the twilight? They do not care for us, and rather, stay idle in the West with those that abandoned us, dancing merrily with food aplenty in lands of gold and silver.'

'My brother it was, who taught me this. He is counted wise among our folk, and the Gods would be displeased with your words. You describe their lands as one who has been there, yet it cannot be so.' Her tone was angry, rebuking, proud, and her lip stuck out defiantly.

Indeed, he himself was surprised with what he had uttered. He had been as far as the courts of Finwë, but he knew nothing of their customs or the meaning of the gold and silver trees. He grew afraid, the gentle honeyed voices were taking control of his thoughts, without asking him.

'I have travelled far, little one, and I have collected much knowledge. You know, the kin that has abandoned us are considered fairer and greater than we ever shall. They live in vast white mansions, with food more plentiful than we, with merriment and festivities most days, so they seldom work, unless creating for their own glory and power, motivated by greed and jealousy.'

She eyed him suspiciously. It went against every word her clever brother had spoken to her, yet she hesitated, for his voice was so convincing, and all seemed to make sense now; why their kin never made contact with them, why the Gods did not manifest themselves, something she had often pondered, and the _sugary, honeyed_ tones could not be refused.

'How do I know that what you speak is truth?'

He grew closer, leaning in and swirling around the girl's body, in an effort to warm her.

'Because,' he whispered, 'I am to be trusted. I am one of the Valar.'

'Then why say you ill of them? If they be your brethren, are you not a traitor of your own race?' She grew tense yet again, unwilling to so easily be made a fool of.

'Aye, you could call me a traitor, though all I am trying to do is make contact with you, who are called the Avari, the Unwilling elves, when verily it is they, the Noldor and the Vanyar who abandoned you. I wish only for your people to be brought into the West, to show your so called kin that you have not been idle, for you are considered inferior to the Calaquendi, the High elves of Aman.' Thus spoke the Houseless one, himself one of the Avari, though it was indeed an Ainu who spoke through him.

'Inferior? We are not inferior! We hunt, we ride, we hide better than any beast of the forest!' The girl cried.

He knew he had trapped her now, by finding her competitive, eager, vain and proud side. It was only a matter of minutes. 'Do you not then desire to go into the West and shame your long lost kin? You shall be an ambassador of your people, the voice of the Forgotten Elves…' Her eyes shone, as he watched her mull over the exciting prospects. In fact he could nearly see the images going through her silly head, the girl arriving on the shores of Aman, her acclamation by the High Elves, winning over the population, and more importantly, the Gods. 'Indeed that shall be your fortune, oh brave one.' That was the final sentence needed, the last drop to fill the already brimming cup.

'Take me there then!'

He smiled, in his way. Thankfully she could not see, for had he a body, his face would be terrifying to look on: An ugly, curled smile, a dark mouth, eyes as slits full of malice, sparkling with lust. 'That can be arranged.' He paused again.

'How? You cannot put such images in my head, then refuse to carry them through!' She demanded nearly angry again.

'You must call me. You must let me in, then I shall guide you, over hill, mountain, ice and sea, you shall be the first of your people to step onto the Undying Lands.'

'Very well. It shall not hurt? I call you then, wandering spirit of the night. Come in!' She giggled, but the mirth was choked in her throat, as with a great surge of wind, she was nearly lifted off her feet. She felt pain, anguish, confusion, torment all at once, as this great spirit took possession of her body. She tried to steady herself against the tree, but her arm did not leave her side. She tried to step back a pace or two, but her legs were glued to the ground. She tried to open her mouth, but her lips were sealed. 

Oh the warmth he felt! All the time wandering houseless had made him realise how much he needed a body, and now he was finally secure behind these walls of flesh. This was a great triumph, he had succeeded, and at last he let out a long, cold laugh, that warmed half the body, but chilled the other half. Yes, she was still struggling, unwilling to yield herself utterly, but he would teach her, dominate her, and make her _his_.

'When are we going?' She managed to gasp, in between the trembling motions.

'Oh, we are leaving now, do not worry,' he answered nastily. 'I have things to do yet.'

'Then we are not going to Aman? You are breaking your promise to me!' 

'You must learn to get used to it. I shall be master of your body now.'

'No! Go away, you've betrayed my trust. I don't _want _to go to see the other elves, even if they think themselves superior to us. You can't make me!'

'I think you will find that I can, if that was indeed my purpose, which it is not.' He replied coolly. 'Now will you behave, or do I have to resort to other methods?' He snarled, and crept up into her head, until she was on her knees in agony.

'Do what you have to do, but please, don't hurt me anymore!'

'That is much better. You see, when you put your mind to it you can cooperate nicely. We are leaving now.' And the girl's legs moved, seemingly of their own accord, but she felt the spirit was now leading the way, to where, she did not yet know.

They ran for hours on end, in fact the girl lost count of how much time had passed since she had left her home, but the spirit inhabiting her body didn't seem to grow tired. He silently urged her on, and though her legs were weak and trembling, still they continued onwards, no more and no less stronger than when they started out. At first her mind had raced, she was agitated, horrified, terrified by this _thing _that had violated her, that had entered her body, but she was beyond all that now. Numbly she went onwards, her mind empty, void of all feelings, except those of the spirit.

The two sides had struggled for her ownership, but _she_ would not give up without an explanation.

'Why are you doing this?' She thought.

'I don't mean you any harm, though you shall surely feel it anyway. I have effectively died, but I did not wish to leave Middle Earth quite yet, and this is the only way for me to survive. Floating Houseless, invisible to all, unable to act by myself; what type of future do think that is?

'Why did you have to choose me?'

He laughed, which was a peculiar feeling for her, like being tickled.

'Why did _I _choose _you_? Should it not be the other way? You it was that invited me! I merely complied to your wishes…'

'Then what about my wish to see the land you call Aman?'

'I will be going there soon, but I doubt you shall come. I am testing my powers now, but I am afraid you are too young, too frail, too vain to be my new home.' He sneered.

'What will you do with me then?

'Use you as a ship uses a port, but I will soon cast my sails and abandon you, where I cannot yet say.'

She shivered. She did not like this intrusion, this sharing, this closeness which made her feel uncomfortable, and ill at ease. What would happen when she slept? Would he force her spirit out of her own body?

'Nay, I shall not do that,' he whispered, 'we shall be friends, you and I; then I will make you stronger and less vulnerable.'

Vulnerable? That was exactly how she felt…

'You have no need to feel that way now. I am here, and will be for the foreseeable future.' 

They disappeared into the gloomy forest. The girl was never seen again. Perhaps she did go to Aman with the spirit that inhabited her body, or perhaps he fled and she in turn fell into darkness, wandering Houseless, searching for a haven in the storm.


End file.
